Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from United Kingdom and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lungfish to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
Mo-Dettes,
Siglo XX,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
The Grass Roots,
L. Decosne,
Carl Craig,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Eric Dolphy,
UT,
Letta Mbulu,
Laurel Aitken,
Minutemen,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
E-Dancer,
The Golliwogs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Todd Terry,
Jawbox,
Section 25,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Quantec,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Seeds,
Gong,
Crime,
The Beau Brummels,
Y Pants,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
Tim Buckley,
The Litter,
The Index,
Soft Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Barrington Levy,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
The Mummies,
Agent Orange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Visage,
The Knickerbockers,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
The Monks,
Andrew Hill,
Aural Exciters,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brothers Johnson,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.